


Sins of the Father

by NeverSatisfiedGirl (Kalli_Ravenne)



Series: Sacrilege [1]
Category: WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blasphemy, Blood and Violence, Bloodplay, Desecration of Sacred Objects, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fingerfucking, Graphic Description, Gun Violence, Knifeplay, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Oral Sex, Priest Kink, Priest!Finn, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rough Sex, Sacrilege, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Violent Sex, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalli_Ravenne/pseuds/NeverSatisfiedGirl
Summary: Despite your better sensibilities, you're drawn to the new priest at your church. What's the worst that can happen?





	1. Wednesday Evening Service

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello hello! Normally, I write fics for Supernatural. However, I’m also a huge fan of WWE and love reading the works of that community as well. After reading some brilliant pieces from - and chatting with - the amazing [@devitt-club](https://tmblr.co/mpNCE8CODw7rALyY8S4XSXg), I got inspired to write a fic featuring one of my current favorites: Finn Balor. Apologies in advance because, this being my first foray into WWE fanfic (and alternate universe at that), this will probably suck. Still, it’s worth the risk. ^_^ 
> 
> I'm definitely not abandoning my current SPN works though...I've got great things planned to finish and add to them coming over the next few weeks!
> 
> P.S....this will eventually upgrade to Explicit and earn every bit of it. You've been warned.

The evening sermon is hard to focus on. Not because it's boring or droning. In which case, I'd be on the edge of lethargy by now.

Our church welcomed a new priest just days ago, and tonight is his first full address to the congregation. He's the youngest I've seen, probably close to my age. Dark hair, boyish charm, blue eyes clear as the morning, a beard that looked well-groomed and soft, and - sweet Jesus in a onesie - a pairing of timbre and accent that made old women blush and little girls giggle when he spoke.

I don't need to tell you what it does to the other women - perhaps even a few of the men - whether they would admit it or not. 

They're probably thinking it right now. Hard not to when the sermon is on the Song of Songs - poetic expressions of love and sex that were exchanged between Solomon and his lover, though many like to teach that it's all just flowery allegory for God speaking to his beloved church. Father Finn was basically explaining that both views were right, and there was nothing wrong with how we chose to interpret it, for both were true in His eyes.

But I couldn’t focus entirely on the message. Because the way those verses poured from his mouth filled my ears with all manner of sin.

“ **My beloved spoke and said to me, ‘Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me.’ See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone** …” 

His voice as he read the passage flowed like dark chocolate over ripe cherries - bold but not overwhelming in its sweetness, with a hint of bitters and incense smoke.

“ **Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me**.”

If he kept saying it that way, I just might.

No! No no no…

No, I shouldn't think that about a _priest_! Least of all, Father Finn. **Especially**  not Father Finn.

I shouldn't think about gripping those broad shoulders, or those large hands gripping my waist as he takes me against the altar and whispers litanies of dirty thoughts in my ear and…

Shit. He's looking right at me. _He's looking at me?!_

“...’ **show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely**.’”

I'd never blushed so hard in my life. 

Yup. One-way ticket to Hell in a gasoline Snuggie for me, thanks.

_ _ _ 

Last in the short line to the confessional booth, and the majority had left long ago. 

I sat on the wooden bench in the dark room, waiting for Father Murphy to appear. He never failed to show up for confession, and was quite kind and comforting. 

“Welcome, my child.” 

Oh. Oh. Oh no.

That voice.

“Uh...Um... Father Finn! I, uh, I…” 

A rich chuckle came from the other side of the screen. “Sounds like you're a bit tongue-tied tonight. Are you alright?”

“Um, ah...yes, Father! Just, uh... I thought Father Murphy conducted confession after evening mass.”

“Oh, of course! He had a family event to get to, so he asked me to take over for him. If you're more comfortable with him, I understand-”

“No, no! Well... yes, but… it's fine, Father. I can confess to you.”

“Take all the time you need, lass.” 

I took a shaky breath to steady myself. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been eight days since my last confession.”

His voice was decadent, generous in its patience. “How have you sinned?”

Shit. 

How do I say this without letting on the role he played in my sin? “I...I had lustful thoughts about a man during mass tonight. They came  suddenly, and I tried to block them out, but they were... distracting.”

“Mm-hmm. And these thoughts...were they of a graphic, possibly disrespectful nature?”

“Y-yes, Father. And the man, well...He isn't married, that I do know but...he’s someone I've never really spoken to, in fact. Not at length. So I don't know him well. And I know I have no chance, but...but the thoughts I have are still there.” None of that made sense. I was babbling, I knew. I couldn’t stop myself.

He just chuckled warmly. “Having those kind of thoughts are not a sin in themselves unless they are expressed outward and violate an existing bond - say, that of marriage. Yes, God calls upon us to be holy and pure in both thought and in deed, but in tonight's message, I stressed that those feelings are part of our humanity. We will struggle often, but only because we have yet to meet one who echoes those feelings. Your thoughts harm no one as long as you keep them under control. At least until you know how they feel.”

I hadn't thought about it that way before. This church really is becoming progressive.

He had me recite two Hail Marys. I was contrite (as much as I could be, anyway) and he prayed absolution over me.

“The Lord has forgiven you. Go in peace.” 

“Thanks be to God.” I added quietly as we stepped out of the booth, “Thank you for listening, Father Finn.”

“My pleasure.” With a soft smile, he wrapped me in a firm embrace. His scent was soothing, his beard actually was soft and, sweet baby Jesus, this really wasn't helping my resolve but his strong arms around me felt wonderful. As I drew back and turned to take my leave, I heard him call my name. 

When I looked back, he said, “Hope I'll be seeing you here on Sunday morning.” A glint in his eye and a knowing smile on his lips, he turned toward the altar.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. I couldn't breathe.

Oh God...did he _know_?

What did he mean about Sunday morning?

And how did he know my name?


	2. A Brief Interlude to Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a rosary involved. That's all you need to know.

Sliding idly up my leg, I could feel the heat of calloused fingertips. The kisses that traveled along the same path sent tiny ripples with each landing.  


Incense. Mingling with the metal of the thurible and the salt, musk, and holy oil on his skin, filling my nose with the sacred and choking me on the forbidden.

But his mouth to mine breathed life and fire. The tongue that pressed past my lips carried blessings and curses, bitter and sweet.

The hematite beads he’d placed upon my neck dug into the skin as he tightened his grip. The cross that dangled from his fist glinted in the beams of moonlight, black as the night sky.

Black as his eyes.

He drove deep within me, growling as the rosary’s grip held firm in dizzying ecstasy. In my ear he whispered the prayers of the profane. Even after this last (Second? Third?) orgasm, he was relentless. I silently damned his control as my body sang hymns of his glorious onslaught.

Close again. So close. I can’t…

But I would. He would see to it that I did.

The next kiss he gave me filled my mouth with hot blood, driving me to the edge…

**BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BE-**

My hand slammed on the snooze button so harshly, I was sure I’d broken it this time. Not that it would have been the worst thing in the world.

I licked my lips. No blood. No trace of his kiss.

So why did my skin still feel so heated?

Shit. Three nights of this, and it’s only gotten worse. And it’s Sunday morning.

**How am I going to face Father Finn like this?**


	3. Communion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's First Sunday, you're late to service, and Father Finn is serving Communion. This couldn't possibly get awkward.

Stifling the rushed panting of someone who rested their eyes for a moment only to find they had overdone it, I slipped through the door during Father Finn's message and slid quietly into the nearest open seat at the end of a pew. I nodded in greeting to Father Murphy as he brought a large tray of grape juice to the altar.  


Right. First Sunday. Communion.

Father Finn's charismatic delivery had not waned. His eyes were still that striking glacial blue and he surveyed the congregation with an odd balance of kindness and command.

"The Lord is calling upon us to be vigilant, be clever, be wise. But to also be kind, be compassionate, be blameless. Remember His words as you leave this cathedral today: **Behold, I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes**...”

My breath caught in my throat, and I froze in place. For somehow, even in the very last pew, his eyes locked onto mine.

A knowing smirk played upon his lips before he finished the verse: “... **and as innocent as doves**.”

Was...was that a _wink_?

My skin felt hot and uncomfortable. _Kyrie eleison_ , indeed.

* * * * *

Father Murphy intoned, " _Behold the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb_."

The church replied, " _Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed_."

I repeated that quietly to myself until I thought I believed it.

The line to receive communion moved swiftly. I stood at the very end, trying to stem the tide of trembles from rising to the surface. Father Finn was given the task of serving the Host and, in all honesty, I was terrified of being near him, knowing the way I felt, the thoughts that hummed like angry bees around a shaken hive.

My head spun wildly.

I felt so ashamed. He had done nothing to wrong me. He was kind, patient, nonjudgmental, and...

Beautiful. So very beautiful.

And utterly unattainable.

But then...why couldn't I turn away? Why does he haunt my dreams so violently? Why do I feel so small beneath his infinite gaze?

I really should stop. I'm making myself dizzy over-thinking this.

As I approach Father Finn, I was warmed by his gentle smile. The buzzing grew louder, but I ignored it.

“Peace be with you, dear woman,” he said softly as he lifted the bread from his plate.

“A-and also with you, Father,” I replied as politely and steadily as I could before opening my mouth to receive the unleavened offering.

The small coin of bread looked tiny in his hand as he lifted it to my lips. As it rested on my tongue, the trembling got stronger. And when I felt the rough skin on the pad of his thumb graze the underside of my lower lip...

_Keep it together._

...my breathing stopped...

_Keep it together._

...time slowed down...

**Keep it together.**

...my sight swam...

**_Keep it together!_ **

...and my world went black.

* * * * *

“There we go. Welcome back, lass.”

When things came back to focus, the first sight to appear in perfect HD clarity was Father Finn's mirthful blue eyes.

I wince at the pounding headache. “What happened?”

“You fainted. Gave ol’ Murphy a hell of a shock with that one,” he chuckled, holding up a water bottle and two ibuprofen.

“I‘m sorry, I - _oof_...” I fell back to the pillow. Guess I sat up too quickly.

“Here, grab onto my shoulders and pull yourself up. Slowly.”

Lord, forgive me. Those _shoulders_...solid muscle. I held on and lifted up, imagining what doing so while riding him would be like-

Shit. Pretty sure there's a place in hell for those who perv on their priests. Population: me.

“‘Atta girl. Here you go.“

I quietly thanked him as I downed the pills and cool water. No way was I trusting my mouth not to get me in trouble.

Father Finn had no trouble filling in the silence, however, with pleasant small talk. Yes, this is good. Simple answers about the weather, upcoming church events, why Mrs. Thomas snores in church despite being wide awake. Safe topics. 

He laughed. I liked his laugh. It calmed the frenzied butterflies in my stomach.

Then, “Are you sure you're alright? No physical illness or anything?”

“I'm okay, just...I haven't been sleeping well lately. I guess it kinda caught up to me.” I tried to laugh but it sounded weak even to my own ears.

“Is there a family member I can contact? A friend, a significant other perhaps?”

I looked away for a moment. “No. I live alone.”

His gaze upon my face was so...intent, _focused_. I felt exposed, as if he could read every secret I kept, every lie I'd ever told, every hope I'd ever had. It took everything not to cover myself with my arms, or turn away. Those eyes held mine and the world stopped turning for a moment.

It went on forever until...“I want you to take my number.”

I blinked. He handed me a slip of paper with his handwriting. “If there's anything I can do to help, I want you to call. I don't care what time it is. You can leave a message and I'll get back to you.”

Wow. Stunned didn't begin to cover it.

“I don't... um. That's very kind of you, Father Finn. Thank you.”

That smile was sunshine, rainy Sunday afternoons, and tranquil pools on summer days, rolled into one. “It's the least I can do. And I mean it. **Anything** I can do to help.”

His eyes flashed with a glimmer of something...predatory?

Damn. I was worse off than I thought.

I politely thank him again before I find the stability to walk to my car. Just before I enter the car, I feel an icy chill travel down my spine. Brushing it off as a remnant of winter air, I get in and take off, feeling surprisingly good after talking with Father Finn. Lighter somehow. And he'd given me his phone number, so that was something.

 _Anything he could do to help_ , he said.

I may take him up on that.

Not like that. I mean, like in a nonsexual way. Not in a...

Forget it. My mind is customizing my seat in hell. Probably something embarrassingly garish, with sequins in chartreuse. 


	4. The Baptism Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another night, another dream...not a chance in hell of it being normal, despite your best efforts.

  
I’m blind. Black satin clings tight to my eyes as the knot behind my head reminds me that it’s still there. **  
**

The air is warm, sticky. No relief to be found here. And then I hear the rumble overhead - nature’s promise of oncoming rain. I would smile except…

My bound wrists hang on a hook that smells of rust and the coppery tang of blood. I can’t feel my legs, save for the occasional wobbly sensation. Between them I feel pulsing and throbbing, an echo of the oncoming storm.

I’m being… _punished? Rewarded?_ I can’t tell. 

It’s terrifying. Too much time has passed since he’s touched me…

Oh…that scent. That forbidden scent. Vespers and violence, heaven and sin. He’s close. I need to feel him.

Heat hovers about my mouth. The rain pours down against my back as a graze of soft lips snaps me back to his presence.

He whispers my name, whispers secrets to me, whispers profane desires in my ears, to my breasts, and against my soaking wet core.

 _Please_ , I beg. _Please let me_ … _please_ …

**“No. I must purify you first.”**

With a tug of my hair, he drowns me in his blood-filled kiss and _I can’t breathe I can’t breathe oh God help me I can’t bre-_

A choked gasp, timed with a rumble of thunder, wakes me from my dream. It’s 1:41am, Thursday morning. It’s pouring down outside.

Yet another night that I dream of Father Finn. Damn it, this can’t continue.

**This isn’t a matter of innocent lust anymore. This could mean my very soul.**  



	5. Let It Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're preparing for a storm...just not for the one that shows up at your apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello hello! So, um, funny story...here’s where things get a bit _real_. Unfortunately, this particular installment got to where it has to be divided into two installments. So the next part I post, it won’t be an interlude, but a full-blown chapter. And boy oh boy, _ **there will be smut.**_

Grocery shopping before a storm is all kinds of fun. You know, like a root canal.

The people clamoring for their basics, the frazzled staff, the items on the wrong shelves because people couldn’t be bothered to put them back where they found them. 

Good times.

Just the same, I pulled into the parking space outside my apartment building relatively unscathed. The sky was darkening quickly, clouds thick with rain bunching together. As I retrieved my items from the front seat, a friendly voice asked, “Need a hand?”

I turned to politely refuse...until I saw the source of the voice. I nearly dropped my eggs. “F-Father Finn!”

His smile was wide and kind, ice-blue eyes sparkling despite the cloudy day. And he was casually dressed, which was new - black leather jacket, black polo, dark blue jeans and running shoes. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he grinned.

“Oh, no no, it’s fine, I’m just...heh...it’s quite a surprise, that’s all,” I chuckled like the nervous mess that I was. “Wh-what brings you around?”

“Just came from a visit with Miss Leona - she’s been ill for a while and hadn’t received visitors, so I took the liberty of bringing her lunch and keeping her company this afternoon. How about you? I imagined you’d be at work this time of day,” he wondered.

“I work at home,” I replied. “I’m a technical writer.” 

“Oh, very nice,” he nodded. A warning rumble sounded above. “Let’s get you inside. I’ll carry your groceries.”

_Gulp._

Well, this was unexpected. But, surprising even myself, not entirely unwelcome.

“S-sure, Father Finn. Thank you.” I watched as he took my groceries while I opened the door.

“Please, lass,” he laughed. “Outside of church, it’s just Finn.”  

We get upstairs to my place on the third floor and, as I flipped on light switches, I’m so thankful I took time to clean house this morning before running errands. It was sizeable, but not a huge place, which was perfect for me.

And Fath- I mean **Finn** , was here. Setting my groceries on the kitchen counter.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, juice... water?”

“Coffee sounds fine,” he replied. “Black with a little sugar.” 

“Coming up.” I prepared the coffee as he asked while he put my groceries away. He knew his way around a kitchen pretty well. 

I handed him the coffee, poured myself a cup of grape juice, and we sat at my dining table in silence. 

“Thanks again for the help, Finn. I admit it's quite startling to see you outside of the cathedral.”

That drew a humble smile from him. “You're not the first to tell me that. Actually, it's good that I ran into you today because I hadn't seen you in service for a couple of weeks now. Father Murphy said you were pretty faithful in attendance, so even he was concerned.”

I looked down at my hands as he placed a warm, firm hand on top of them. “Did something happen?”

_Oh, nothing's wrong, Father. Not at all - just that I keep having dreams about you tying me up and fucking me on the altar until I can't stand up while you choke me with rosary beads-_

“I'm-I’m, um...no, I'm fine,” I stammered as I all but leapt from my seat, taking my drink with me as if to add more. A thunderous boom shook the apartment, and the cup slipped from my shaky hands, spilling juice on the floor.

“Shit!” I run to grab paper towels, panicking all the while. 

Finn came up to me, concern etched in his eyes. “Breathe, it's alright. Let me help you.” Taking the roll of towels from my hands, he stooped down and cleaned up the small mess, making sure to follow with wet paper towels to prevent stickiness. He was so calm and I, watching him from behind, was an absolute mess of a human being. 

No matter how amazing his rear view was, I was absolutely certain I was going to hell.

Finn's voice calling my name brought me back to the present. “Let me get you to the couch. You look frightened.”

“No, I'll be f-fine. You should get home before this storm picks up.”

“Nonsense. You shouldn't be left alone. Whatever is happening, you can talk to me.” He was genuinely worried, and I felt guilty.

But I kept my mouth shut, knowing if I spilled the truth, things would get extremely awkward. And there was the duration of the storm to consider.

We sat there on the couch, his knee touching mine. “I want to help you. That's what I'm here for. If there's something happening that may be troubling you, I'm here to listen. I won't judge you. Anything I can do to help, remember?”

God, his voice with that accent was so comforting. My throat tickled, and clearing it didn't help it. 

But the moment I opened my mouth to apologize, the dam burst. 

“Remember I confessed to you about the dreams I've been having about a man at church?” He nodded. “Um, well... they've been getting worse. More intense, more graphic. And I thought if I stopped going for a short while, I could just purge these impure dreams and...my s-soul would be clear. But...no matter how I pray, what scriptures I read, what counsel I seek, I just...it won't stop. I can't stop them from coming.”

He listened intently. “I see,” he replied after a brief pause to process everything. “Might I ask...who this man is?”

Everything seized up. I couldn't. I fervently shook my head.

But something about his voice... _changed_. Maybe it was the storm resonating through the apartment. It was so strong, _compelling_ , even without raising or changing in tone. “You can tell me.” His eyes locked mine in place. 

“You,” I gasped, then again in a whisper as I looked away. “It’s _you_...Father Finn.”

My eyes tightly shut, I waited. Waited for him to leave, to admonish me, to pity me, something. Not this. The silence was too much.

What I _got_ , however, I didn't expect. Could never have expected in a million years.

He said, almost quietly, “I had a feeling... and it's okay that you feel that way.”

I blinked.

“In fact,” he said, a bit surer now, “I _like_  knowing that you dream about me.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“And…” I felt his lips against my ear. “You should take what you want.”

A switch flipped in me. Something out of my control. _Did he just-_

Before my brain could even finish the thought, my hands pulled Finn in, pressing my lips to his. He was kissing me back, coaxing my mouth open with his thick tongue. I leaned against the arm of the couch as he leaned over me, hard muscle against soft curve. I opened up to him with such abandon.

_Holy hell, this is happening…it’s not a dream._

**Oh God, this is happening!**

As the rain poured outside, I wanted to stop him, and to apologize. But…

When I _did_ stop him, it was to lead him to my bedroom.


	6. Floodgates of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The floodgates have opened. No turning back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello hello! The wait is over. And I certainly hope this is what you’re looking forward to. From here things will get even crazier and far more sacrilegious, so um...consider this one of the last safe havens before the madness. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

**  
**His kisses make oxygen seem overrated. **  
**

His hands are an undertow, the vortex I can’t escape from. They could tear me apart at any time.

But no...they are meticulous in their execution. They leave burning trails on my skin in their wake as they remove my shirt. My hands feel fumbling and childlike in their exploration, yet somehow Finn’s jacket and polo made it off his body.

Oh. _Oh_.

I couldn't help but stare. Smooth skin like ivory, muscle cut like a marble god. If this was just his upper half… oh, _fuck me_.

“You're beautiful,” I breathed without thinking, then gasped as I realized what I said aloud.

With an amused huff, he replied, “Same can be said of you.” Against the wall he pinned me, stealing my breath with every kiss. Moans and pants are flowing from me like water, I can't stop it.

His hands - _God, those blessed hands!_ \- undo my button and zipper of my jeans and, while one pulls one leg around his waist, the other slithers between us. _Is he going_ -

Oh, merciful God in heaven, he _is_. 

A single digit circled my already aching clit, sending shivers every time he grazed it. “How long have you wanted this, hmmm?” His voice was soft, yet dark and teasing in my ear. I was trembling. “Already so sensitive, so wet. Tell me... how many nights you've touched yourself and thought of my hands being there.” 

A light pinch and I jolted in place from the flash of pain. “E-every time I've dreamed of you...since the moment I saw you.” 

_Shit, I never meant to tell him that. Why am I telling him that?_ But the words flowed from me, like he'd called forth the truth from my lips no matter what the question.

A dark chuckle. “Feels different from your dreams, does it?” His hand moved in further, teasing the delicate, arousal-slick skin there before sliding a fingertip inside and wiggling it. “And so very tight. I'll have to prepare you to take me first.”

With that, he slid his finger all the way in, steadily pumping as his palm pressed against my clit, daring me to rub against it.

“Go on then, take what you want,” he invited. _Fuck_.

My body obeyed without question, rolling my hips as I chased every bit of pleasure his hand had to offer. He went even lower to my breasts and nipped and sucked until my nipples rose and ached.

I held on to his shoulders for dear life as his mouth slid over mine. Our tongues twisted and tangled. His teeth closed on my tongue, holding it in place as Finn added a second finger and pumped even faster. 

The whimpers that escaped my mouth…

“I love the sounds you make,” he growled, releasing my tongue. “I could keep you here, finger-fuck you until you can't stand up. But…” His fingers disappeared just as I had come close, leaving me feeling empty as they slipped into his mouth and he licked them clean. “I'd rather fuck you 'til you can't walk. Until you can't **breathe** without feeling me inside you. Sound good?”

I could have fainted. If it were possible to die of pleasure, I'd be long gone.

But he wasn't done with me. This was just beginning.

My back fell against the bed as he ripped my jeans away, my ruined panties with them. _Probably a good thing I didn't wear a bra_ , I thought to myself.

He spread my legs open, baring my all to him. I felt the hard rumble of thunder again, and the sky flashed. I couldn't breathe as he closed in, calm and predatory. 

God, he's terrifying. He's terrifying and destructive and so fucking beautiful. 

“You're awfully flattering, love,” he replied softly, chuckling behind it. I hadn't realized until that moment that I’d said that thought aloud. 

Before I could process it, his tongue burned a path along my soaked core. My back arched but he kept my hips locked in place.

_Oh God...his mouth…_

I gasped and shuddered and whined, helpless. His tongue fluttered and swirled, lips caressed and sucked. My thighs squeezed reflexively as my hands sought his dark hair. I tugged, and his responding growl vibrated right on my clit as it throbbed, ready to explode. 

“Fuck, please…” I begged. “ _Please_ …”

Those eyes, brightened by the lightning for a split second, danced with mischief. Like he had a secret that he'd never tell.

And then I felt him _bite down_ on my sensitive clit. 

I didn't tumble over the edge. I free-fell. 

A cry escaped my throat that I'd never experienced with anyone. It was pain, surprise, and joy all in one. It felt like I had witnessed the face of God and lived to tell the tale.

I couldn't stop trembling. He kissed along my inner thighs before standing up to remove his pants - _so unfair that he had kept them on this whole time!_ \- and  underwear.

Holy hell. He's…

I couldn't. He's just so... fuck, there's no way I could take him …

My mind said **no** as my body pleaded **_hell yes, please_**!

As if he'd read my mind, Finn said low and seductively, “You can... and you _will_.” 

He crawled back on the bed, the predator surveying his prey before the ravaging. Seating himself between my legs, his cock rested hot and heavy right over where I needed it most. I raised my hips to rub against it.

“So eager. I like that,” Finn purred. His hips responded back, sending shockwaves through my sensitive nerves.

When he pushed in, he went slowly, carefully, eyes on me all the while. Mine were shut as I focused on how he stretched me open with every inch. 

“Open those beautiful eyes, sweetheart,” he whispered to me. I obeyed without question. 

He pushed all the way to the hilt, releasing a shuddering exhale. “Such a good girl, taking all of me. You feel fucking amazing on my cock, you know that?”

He began to move, and I had never known such exquisite torture. Like a bow being drawn back, the slow pull, before the sharp release of the arrow. His hips snapped forward, filling me completely. 

His gaze held me in place, with no chance of escape. What has he done to me? 

I clung to his waist as he drove into me, picking up his pace. None of the noises that spilled from my mouth were human, I was certain. But _his_? God, he sounded so primal, pants and moans with an edgy growl. A thick, rough hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing at the sides just so.

_Fuck, how did he know?_

Tears are falling from my eyes from the sheer ecstasy of it all. It was better than even my dreams could conceive. 

_I needed to...I needed it... I'm so close…_

“Now,” he said in that guttural tone, “ **Come**.”

My body ignited at Finn's command. I couldn't help but turn away as the orgasm overtook me, whiting out my vision. I could still feel him for a few more stuttering pumps before he pulled out and shot his hot release on my inner thighs, shaking all the while.

His face when he comes...he was beautiful. _Like an angel of light_.

* * *

We laid together as the rain continued to fall, my head on his chest. He cleaned us both up before we resettled beneath the covers. Secretly, I was pleased that he hadn’t dressed to leave.

I wanted to feel guilty. I expected to feel shame. But neither arose. Just the afterglow of incredibly good sex. That it happened to be the priest I'd had wicked dreams about was something of a shock, but it hadn't quite registered yet.

“You think too loud,” Finn rumbled.

“How would you know?” I inquired, puzzled.

“Because you tense up when you're overthinking something.”

I scoffed at that.

“Let’s stay here, sleep a while. We'll talk about it before long. Right now, I'm content. Aren't you?”

I was, and I told him as much.

“Good.” He pulled me in, a gentle kiss on my forehead. Then he added:

**“Because I'm not done with you yet.”**


	7. The Garden Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams can be weird. Not half as weird as real life.

_The garden was beautiful this time of year._

_I didn’t appreciate it nearly as much during the day as I did at night. Under the moonlight, everything seemed to come alive. The dark blue sky alight with stars, the stream peacefully rushing past, and my lover next to me in lovely slumber._

_He’s my beginning. My first._

_Nothing covered our bodies. There was no shame between us, among nature. We were all one._

_In a moment, my lover’s face hovered over mine, meeting me in a tender kiss. Slow and exploratory at first, then deeper and more passionate. Soft, firm hands caressed my breasts, teasing the nipples to their peak._

_It was then that I felt a tug in my stomach. Nothing painful, but slight, a gentle pull._

_I knew this feeling, what he was doing. It was necessary. And I welcomed it._

_I opened my eyes to see a wisp of light disappear into his mouth. He eyes flashed with a pale glow before returning to its serene sky hue._

_The next time he kissed me again, I could taste blood._

My eyes snapped open from sleep. I could no longer hear the rain.

And Finn was next to me in my bed, eyeing me curiously. “Bad dream?”

I nodded my head. “Happens often,” I replied weakly.

“Let’s see if I can fix that for you, then,” he whispered as he claimed my mouth - and body - again.


	8. Kindle the Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware the calm after the storm...

****

“What’s going through your mind?”

Night was falling. The storm had passed.

Finn’s heart quietly thumped in my ear as I pondered his question, and his hand gently stroked my back.

“Nothing,” I replied. “Everything. I’m not sure. This was...unexpected.”

“It was, I agree. Do you regret it?”

“I…”

“I won’t judge you, I promise.”

Carefully, I chose my words. “I thought I would. I mean, what we did...it isn’t allowed. But, I’m also kinda glad it happened? Like I got it out of my system at last, if that makes sense.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “It’s no sin to have these desires, you know. What we did...it was natural, it was right. I don’t regret it either.”

“But...you’re my _priest_ -”

“Yes, and I’m clearly not immune. Not to you,” Finn pointed out. “And not to the desires of the flesh. We’ve harmed no one in satisfying our urges with one another, have we?”

“No, I suppose not,” I conceded. “I guess I never imagined that you would...well…”

A chuckle vibrated his chest. “Take an interest in you? I was fascinated from the moment I saw you.”

My lips curled at the corners just a bit. Heat rose to my face, and I was thankful he couldn’t see it.

After a beat, Finn stated, “This stays between us.”

“Of course.”

“And...if you find yourself wanting, don’t hesitate. Anything you need.”

“The same to you... _Father Finn_ ,” I breathed in a whisper.

* * *

That fateful Thursday afternoon replayed in my head as I watched Finn deliver the message to the parishioners on Sunday morning.

“James tells us in the third chapter that ‘ _the tongue is a small thing that makes grand speeches. But a tiny spark can set a great forest on fire_.’ I've never known a fire that didn't begin with a flame, even a tiny one. The tongue is powerful. It can lift a spirit. It can break a heart. It can save a life. It can crush a soul. Or it can kindle the flame...all with a single word. We must use our tongues wisely, not to spread falsehood or destruction, but to speak kindness and healing to one another. To  speak love. To speak peace. Even, if you must, to speak passion.”

His eyes managed to find me and, consciously or not, my focus fell to his lips as he licked them. My breath caught in my throat, and a tingling sensation tickled between my legs remembering the feel of his beard along my inner thighs.

I was so fucked.

* * *

After the service, I saw that Father Finn was otherwise occupied with people seeking his counsel, so I went home instead for a shower, a light lunch, and an afternoon nap.

The hot water was instant relaxation the moment it hit my skin.  I washed and detangled my hair and scrubbed my body until I felt better, clearer in my head. Wrapped in my favorite robe, even if still a bit damp, I go to the fridge and begin pulling out sandwich stuff when a knock sounded at the door.

_That’s curious. I wasn’t expecting anyone today…_

A peek through the keyhole, and my knees wobbled. It couldn’t be.

Hesitantly, I opened the door to the softest, clearest blue eyes I’d ever seen. And they stared me down as if I were Sunday lunch.

“ _Father_ \- I mean, _Finn_! I’m surprised to see you today,” I managed, inviting him in. He looked as though he’d just arrived straight from the church, wearing a white dress shirt, black pressed slacks, dress shoes, and his black leather jacket.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you or scare you, I’m sorry,” he replied, a bit shyly.

“It’s fine. You’re just in time. I was about to have lunch. Are you hungry?” I spoke as I walked into the small kitchen, and he followed at a distance.

I busied myself at the counter, spreading honey mustard on slices of wheat bread. Before I can turn to ask if he’s alright with turkey sandwiches, I feel him pressed against my back. Warm breath tickled at the base of my neck until soft lips pressed gently against it.  Strong hands gripped at my waist, pulling me in. I could have collapsed feeling how hard he was already.

A path of kisses left a fiery trail to my ear. And once there, when he softly stated, “I need to taste you again,” I knew there wasn’t a hope in hell that I would ever say no.

On my kitchen table, spread wide and naked before him, Finn devoured me with ravenous enthusiasm and merciless intent, determined to show me how many ways he could make me come with just his tongue, lips, and fingers. When he was through, I couldn’t move, could barely beg him to fuck me, which he happily obliged once he carried me to the couch.

Much like Thursday afternoon, he stayed afterwards and we talked idly, lying together and carrying on like we were just two lovers. Laughing and kissing, touching and exploring each other.

And much like Thursday evening, he left as night arrived.  “Until next time,” he promised.

I’d be ready for him anytime.

* * *

That night, I dreamed we were in the church during service.

Finn, in his vestments, was fucking me against the altar. Claiming me, choking me with his hand, speaking sacred words and shocking profanities in my ears as the parishioners gazed on as if watching a normal service.

As he pushed me to the edge, head spinning from the lack of oxygen, I felt another tug in my gut. Eyes open, I watched as he inhaled a small wisp of light, taking it past his lips. His eyes flashed brighter before returning to normal.

He kissed me deep as my body exploded, filling my mouth once more with the coppery flow of blood.

He drew back, crimson still on his lips, eyes melting into a matching shade of red.

“You’re mine now, _lilitu_ ,” he grinned with razor sharp teeth. His teeth sank into my neck.

**And I woke up screaming.**


	9. The Paradise Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodbyes should never leave you numb...right?

**You have one new voice message. First voice message:**

> _“This is Nurse Everly from Gentle Tides Nursing Home, and... I'm sorry to say this, but your mother passed away this morning. It was peaceful - she was asleep. We are so sorry for your loss. Please call us at 555-237-5652 and we can help you make arrangements. Thank you, we'll talk soon.”_

* * *

I was silent. I couldn't speak, think, or breathe.

My mother is…she’s _gone_.

I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to break everything within reach and collapse to my feet in grief.

But I can't. I _can't_...

Quickly, calmly, I call Father Finn. He picked up on the third ring, per usual.

“A surprise to hear from you this time of day! How can I help you?”

“My mother died today,” I whispered.

A heavy sigh. “I'm sorry.”

“I need you. Can I see you today?”

“Of course,” he replied, concern in his voice. “I can be there in an hour.”

“Alright. See you soon, Finn.”

I hung up and sat in silence until he arrived. Every movement felt mechanical, as if merely going through the motions. He sat me down on the couch and brought me a cup of hot tea.

“Your mother,” he asked. “How'd she pass?”

“Peacefully, they said. In her sleep.”

“She slept on Earth, and awakened in Paradise today. It hurts, I know. But she is at peace,” he assured.

“That's the thing,” I replied. “It _should_ hurt. But it doesn't. I can't feel **anything**. And she wasn't a terrible mother at all. I loved her. But...I can't _feel_ anything, and I don't know why.”

“Sometimes the shock can make death difficult to process. You'll grieve in your own time.” It was a comforting thought. He knew just what to say.

“Finn? I need you. Please...help me feel something.”

I knew I never needed to ask twice.


	10. What the Spirit Says

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go a step too far...but you're too blissed out to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello hello! So we’re coming to the point in the story where things get disturbing as hell. This is the beginning of the end.
> 
> Anywho, I hope you enjoy it. :)
> 
> Warnings: Incredibly sacrilegious/blasphemous smut, anal sex (female receiving), graphic death (minor character), hints of dub-con, detachment, bondage, knife play, blood play.

Breathe.

**I can't…**

_Breathe._

**It's too much.**

Just... _breathe_. Take me in. Take _all_ of me.

**Fuck. _Please…_**

The stretch burned, but it was a good burn. Especially when, the moment he knew I had adjusted to his size, Finn gripped my shoulder with one hand and the rosary beads he had placed around my neck with the other, and fucked my ass while pinning me against the altar in the empty church.

It wasn't the first time we had done this.

The day my mother passed away, Finn spend the entire afternoon and evening taking me apart. He even stayed the night when I asked.

Through the funeral and the two weeks after, I kept expecting the flood of emotion to come surging through. I waited for the shock to pass.

That moment never came. There were tears, but it just felt... _expected. Mechanical. **Empty.**_

Finn counseled me. He was the only one I knew I could trust. Our sessions went from twice a week to almost five or six.

Recently, he decided to hold them after services on Wednesday and Sunday when the church had emptied. I knew I should have resisted, but Father Finn was the forbidden fruit that I couldn’t stop partaking in, no matter where it was offered.

At my doorstep. Back alley of a restaurant. Under a bridge in the same cemetery where they buried my mother.

The things that should have been wrong barely registered in my brain anymore. The time I spent with Finn was the only thing that made any sense. I had no one else.

Just Finn. And that was enough.

The nightmares, however. They hadn’t stopped. If anything, they had grown steadily worse.

I’d told Finn about them, in rather graphic detail, down to the blood kisses. While he had appeared startled by them, he brushed them off as being unusual dreams with some very good ideas. Except for the blood kisses and having sex before the congregation, we seemed to cover every last one of them.

Especially the one involving a crucifix. It’s a good thing he’d smoothed down the edges and rounded off the base first before allowing me to fuck myself on it while taking his cock in my mouth

Should have been wrong. But the alarms never went off, so I never stopped.

* * *

The Friday after our last church session (Wednesday evening services are usually the more arduous), I still felt the burn as I walked through the park. I’d never even considered anal sex, but after the explosive orgasm I had, Finn made me a believer.

“He that hath ears, let him hear what the Spirit says to the church,” an aged, urgent voice cried out.

As I walked closer to the disheveled old crone with wild, cataract-clouded eyes, she continued to recite from the book of Revelation: “ _‘These are the words of him who holds the seven spirits  of God and the seven stars. I know your deeds; you have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead.’_ **Dead, you hear me?!** You all walk this Earth and don't even realize that you're all **dead** without God's forgiveness, God's light! You think you'll live forever, but you won't. You will _all_ face His divine judgment as the walking zombies that you are!”

Then, she turned those haunted eyes to _me_.

“You, girl!” She screeched.

I swallowed, feeling self-conscious. “Me?”

She nodded as if her neck could not handle the movement. Her frail hands seized a vice grip on my wrists and held them up between us.

“You are unclean! _Vardat lilitu_! He has made you so! He comes as a beacon of light and hope, as the Morningstar did! But he is defiling you with sin, and the blood of the damned! He is a son of Lilith, he must not be trusted! You must flee before he claims what's left of your soul!”

As she spoke the last word, a new scream tore from her mouth. Looking down, I see fire bursting from the inside of her stomach as the contents melted away into a sizzling mess at our feet. I snatched my hands back as she quickly went up, consumed on all sides before I could blink. I felt hands pulling me away, but I was glued to the spot as her clothes went up, the scent of her burning flesh filling my nose as the sight of her body melting seared into my brain.

But I couldn't scream. Or throw up. Or turn away.

I wasn't at all repulsed. I just stared, transfixed.

I could hear voices asking me if I was alright, asking what happened, asking my name. But I couldn't answer.

I fainted instead.

* * *

Smoke. I gagged and coughed.

But there was no blaze, no burning woman, no singed hair or flesh. Just candles. Everywhere. In my room.

Not that it mattered. Even if there was a fire, I was naked, bound by my wrists and ankles to my bed.

How did I get home?

“You're awake,” a familiar voice cooed.

“Finn?”

“Right here, lass,” he replied. “A couple of parishioners found you at the park and brought you home. One of them called me.”

“But...why am I…” My head spun as he came into view. Completely naked, hard, and glowing in the golden light, with a hand behind his back.

“Tied up? Couldn't help myself. I just wanted to see you, touch you, taste you…” He lifted a silver blade. “ _Mark_ you.”

I shuddered, but not out of fear. Every inch of me ached for him. What happened before didn't matter.

This. _Him_. I needed it.

He slid between my legs, cock rubbing and pressing against my heat, kissing me hard and deep. Fuck, I needed this. Anything to take the image of that woman's melting flesh from my head.

“You trust me?” He whispered against my lips.

“Completely, Father,” I respond naturally.

“Safe word?”

“ _Ave Maria_ , Father.”

“Good girl.”

The knife play kink was something we both shared, but the bloodletting surprised me a bit. The scratches were never deep. Just enough to draw blood, enough to make me shake and gasp, then moan as he lapped at the wounds he created, fingers on his left hand teasing my throbbing clit as he went.

_Scratch. Lick. Tease. Repeat._

_Scratch. Lick. Tease. Repeat._

_Scratch... Lick... Tease... **Repeat.**_

On my arms, my legs, my stomach...never in sensitive places but close enough to make them feel it.

I came as he kissed me with my blood on his lips. I could taste copper and my essence from where he licked his fingers clean.

It was just the beginning of our night.

Finn knew exactly how to make me feel. Finn knew how to make it right.

Nothing. Else. Matters.

* * *

_Vardat lilitu.  
_

_Vardat lilitu._

_What did she mean?_


	11. A Tear in the Veil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gloves are officially off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings (potential triggers): Incredibly sacrilegious/blasphemous smut, implied demonic rape, vomiting, dub-con, detachment, bondage, knife play, blood play, and horror elements.

****

> _Her nobles shall be no more, nor shall kings be proclaimed there; all her princes are gone. Her castles shall be overgrown with thorns, her fortresses with thistles and briers. She shall become an abode for jackals and a haunt for ostriches. Wildcats shall meet with desert beasts, satyrs shall call to one another; There shall the Lilith repose, and find for herself a place to rest. There the hoot owl shall nest and lay eggs, hatch them out and gather them in her shadow; There shall the kites assemble, none shall be missing its mate. Look in the book of the LORD and read: No one of these shall be lacking, For the mouth of the LORD has ordered it, and His spirit shall gather them there. It is He who casts the lot for them, and with His hands He marks off their shares of her; They shall possess her forever, and dwell there from generation to generation._

My search for the meaning for the crone’s cryptic words returned fairly fruitless. The only biblical reference I knew for what it resembled - Lilith - was in Isaiah, and it was incredibly vague.

Visiting the library, I looked through their resources and discovered Sumerian and Talmudic connections, but still no solid answers.

I didn’t care. At least, I shouldn’t. Not entirely.

But the way she died...and what she called me - _vardat lilitu_ \- that doesn’t leave one’s mind easily or willingly. So I decided to do research, only to be met with varying degrees of success.

Even references to Lilith were scattered. Some regarded her as a goddess of the night, others as a demon, and even more as a succubus - a demon that steals souls by having sex with their victims.

Huh.

In one book about the Dead Sea Scrolls, there was a passage from a section called _Songs of the Sage_ :

> _And I, the Instructor, proclaim His glorious splendour so as to frighten and to terrify all the spirits of the destroying angels, spirits of the bastards, demons, Lilith, howlers, and [desert dwellers…] and those which fall upon men without warning to lead them astray from a spirit of understanding and to make their heart and their […] desolate during the present dominion of wickedness and predetermined time of humiliations for the sons of light], by the guilt of the ages of [those] smitten by iniquity – not for eternal destruction, [bu]t for an era of humiliation for transgression_.

Fascinating, even if it wasn’t what I wanted.

Still, I left the library with more questions than answers.

Was she saying Lilith was after me?

Is that a demon in my dreams?

And if so, why am I imagining it as Finn?

* * *

A few days later, after service on Wednesday night, Finn blindfolded me and, naked with wrists bound behind my back, made me ride his cock among the pews. He guided my rolling hips and reddened my ass with sharp slaps to either side.

The pain fueled the fire, he told me. And _oh_ , he was so right.

He decided to further expound on this lesson at my apartment as he harshly fucked my mouth. Tears sprung to my eyes but I reveled in the lesson, and the feel of his cock pumping past my lips. I came violently from the sheer ecstasy of it all as he pumped his seed down my throat.

Our sessions had become increasingly risky and exciting. Even if it had become my way of escaping from the nightmares that had also become increasingly terrible.

The last one was absolutely the darkest I’d seen. I couldn’t get it out of my head…

> **Tied to an unforgiving slab of stone - a sacrificial altar, from the dried splatters of blood - I lay naked and spread apart.**
> 
> **And a flurry of shadows with blazing red eyes closed in on all sides. They all stood ready to take a piece of me. From either of my three orifices they desired.**
> 
> **I was used, I was fucked, I was pushed beyond every acceptable limit. They whipped me, cut me, filled my mouth with blood in their kiss, and took from me until I was numb.**
> 
> **And, in the firelight... they _all_ looked like Finn.**

That night, I had spent half an hour after waking up heaving into the toilet, shaking all over. It was the first I’ve felt of fear in a long time.

But Finn always managed to make me feel better. He always knew how to.

Still, there was something that I just couldn’t shake.

* * *

The warm glow of candlelight cloaked the altar in a shroud of serenity and safety. I knelt and recited three Hail Marys per Father Murphy’s advice in the confessional a moment ago. I didn’t go into details, but it seemed useful just the same.

Yet, with each recitation, I felt no better or relieved. No worse either. Just... _nothing_.

“Are you lost, my child?”

I hadn’t heard him kneeling next to me. Maintaining distance and discretion in public, I replied softly, “Father Finn...I am troubled again by nightmares.”

“Have they gotten any worse since the last one?”

“I haven’t had any since the last one, but...I don’t know what to do. My prayers feel hollow. I don’t want to fall asleep. I’ve witnessed...horrible things, and haven’t so much as bat an eyelash. Father, what’s happening to me?” My voice was cracking.

“Oh, my child…” He pat my back gently. “It means it’s almost over.”

“Wh-what, Father?” I was confused.

“It’s almost over,” he repeated in the same soothing tone he’d maintained. “Your soul. It’s... _delicious_. So full of guilt, and regret, and loneliness, with just a hint of deviance. A feast for any demon.”

I froze in place, unable to move. I dared not turn my head in his direction.

“You can feel it, can’t you? The icy chill, the hollowness where your soul used to be? It was all so easy. All I needed was a way into your head. And dreams are such easy seeds to plant in a solitary mind.” He hummed pleasantly. “There’s a couple more morsels left, and I intend to savor them. The next time I come for you, you will give me what I want. Again, and again. Your soul is mine. And I intend to drain you dry.”

Hot tears flooded my eyes as fear paralyzed me. _Finn? No...no... **no no no** …_.

“By the way, those nightmares you’re having?”

My head cautiously turned to look at him.

When he peered up at me, the blue in his eyes was completely eclipsed.

They were a violent crimson, set into his face with an evil smirk. “Who said they were just... _nightmares_?”


	12. The Demon's Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Finn speaks. That...is really all you need to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, mentions of the following: smut, dub-con/non-con, blood, horror elements, the demonic nature of “Father” Finn

You’re awake. Atta girl, there you go.

Heh. Last time you woke up with your wrists bound, you were pretty agreeable. What’s changed?

Oh, _right_.

The eyes are a bit alarming, I don’t blame you for being shocked. 

*huffs a deep breath*

You know, I wasn’t gonna do this. Reveal myself to you. At least, not until I was absolutely certain that I had you. _All_ of you. 

But I do. And _fuck_ , it feels amazing not to hide myself. The smiling and praying and bowing and scraping to some absentee fuck who left ages ago? Bullshit.

You think I possessed some witless bastard? No, no. This is **my** vessel. Nice, isn’t it? Handcrafted it myself, based partly on what you humans find attractive. 

You know what’s hilarious? Seeing how quickly you fools will give yourselves over so willingly to something beautiful. Especially when you’re lonely. 

 **You** , though. I had you pegged from the start. 

Those little daydreams you had during service? That was _me_.

The dreams? _Me_. 

At least, they _started_ as dreams, didn’t they? 

The first.... _half_ of the very first one was your doing. I saw that as my perfect opportunity to start preparing you. 

The blood-filled kisses were to defile you, make your soul more palatable. Not _mine_ , no. Of the damned that I have claimed before you.

But when you opened your door - and your legs - to me, _so_ willingly....

Mmmmmm. That’s where the real pleasure began. The things you let me do to you. 

Oh, don’t cry. I’m not going to kill you. Not my purpose.

I’m just a humble incubus, a Lilin-demon. And you’re my paramour. **That’s** what _vardat lilitu_ means: _paramour of Lilu, or the Lilin._

Now: here’s what going to happen: I’m going to untie you. You’re going to flee to your apartment. And I’m going to enjoy fucking and violating you one more night. I will take what’s left of your soul, and you can go back to your life as usual. 

Well, if you **can**. Rather difficult to function normally without a soul. You’ve already caught a glimpse, haven’t you? Watched that old bitch spontaneously combust and never even _blinked_. 

Your bonds are undone. I’ll even give you a thirty-minute headstart to prepare for me.

 

Now, go on. **Run**.

_I’ll see you soon..._


	13. Serpent and the Dove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Father Finn sort our your differences. (Not really.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings (potential triggers): Blood, violence, blasphemy, desecration of sacred objects, sacrilege, non-con, horror elements (no squinting required)

My voice was raw from screaming. My lungs burned from the frantic run upstairs to my door.

He was coming for me. _Fuck!_

I tried to think, tried to breathe, tried to ignore the churning nausea in my stomach.

Finn... _Father Finn_...no. **No** , _not_ Father Finn.

 _A demon_. Incubus.

My _soul._ He was _eating my soul_ as he…while we...

I gagged, but swallowed it back. No, I can’t. I can’t. He’s coming.

I started barricading the doors, locking the windows, and dug up every crucifix I could find. Over every entrance I marked a cross and prayed over every one of them. With the crucifixes I collected from my mother’s effects, I surrounded myself in a circle with them, sharpened a few into crude points for use as weapons. My father’s gun sat at my side as well.

All the while, I recited countless Hail Marys, pleading to God for forgiveness and seeking His aid, hoping against hope that the demon lied about His absence.

I can’t die like this.

Not like this.

_“I told you…”_

I screamed at the sound of his voice in my ear. I looked around. No one there.

But I could still hear him. _“...I’m not here to kill you.”_

He was in my head. Speaking as though he were in the room.

_“I will claim what’s mine and leave you in peace. There’s no need to resist me.”_

I gripped my head, thoughts screaming back at him. _**Stop, please! Leave me alone! Get out of my fucking head!**_ I resorted to reciting Hail Marys in my mind to chase him out.

For a moment, it went quiet. Then, I heard him chuckle. _“So, my obedient little girl wants to play. So willing to fight me on such a simple matter.”_  
  
He might have stolen most of my soul, but my mind was still my own, dammit! I assaulted with more pushback, drowned him out with more prayers. They didn’t seem to do more than bore and annoy him.

After a moment, he said, _“Of course, if you insist on being a bad girl and resisting...you leave me no choice.”_

The pressure in my head lifted as he released his hold. But not without a parting gift.

Blood fell from my nose in hot rivulets, staining my shirt. I stared horrifically and raced to the kitchen - gun in one hand, crucifix stuck in the back of my jeans -  and try to stop the flow and clean up. Blowing my nose and wiping the sticky mess from my face with a wet paper towel, I took a dry one and tilt my head back for a few seconds. It seemed to have stopped, but I couldn’t be too careful. The last thing I needed was…

...a distraction. _Fuck me._

“I’d love to.”

I spun in place, finding myself face to face with Father Finn. **(No, no he’s not! He’s a demon!)**

“I know you’re scared. At least, abstractly. What’s left of your soul is echoing back to your brain, so you at least remember what it feels like,” he explained casually, then sighed with a soft (almost cruel) smile. “It doesn’t have to be this way, love. You can finish this willingly...or I can inflict much more than a simple nosebleed.”

Without further thought, I leveled the gun on Finn’s chest, aiming for the heart, and pulled the trigger, rocked against the sink by its kickback.

He fell to the floor, unconscious. I stood in shock, unable to do much more than stare at the lifeless corpse on the floor.

It could **not** have been that easy.

Just to be certain, I took the crudely shaped stake I'd made of the crucifix and raised it, ready to drive it through his heart.

As I brought it down, I felt something wrap around my wrist and hurl me with such force and ease that it barely registered I had been tossed until my back crashed against my front door.

I collapsed in a painful heap on the wooden floor, groaning and sore.

I heard a tiny metallic clatter in the kitchen. Then a laugh.

“I should have expected that, yet I'm still surprised. I've been stabbed, hanged, burned, broken...but I'll never get used to getting shot. Hm.”

A rough hand grabbed me by the hair and pulled me along the floor like an over-sized sack of potatoes. I struggled and fought, but the fight left me once my head slammed into the doorway of the bedroom.

“You know...this isn't even a fair fight.”

I felt him hoist me up and throw me harshly on the bed. **Fuck** , everything hurt. My vision swam.

“I mean, I'm an eternal being. To me, you're practically food. And good for a fuck. In your case, **especially** good.”

Leather bounds slid around my ankles, waist, and hands. I felt quick nicks at the vein in both my wrists. The hot flow of blood began to pool as he continued.

“Don't worry. I'll be true to my word. I shouldn't be, considering you shot me and tried to put a crucifix in my chest. Not that either would have worked. Crosses don't deter us, and no earthly weapons can kill us. And prayers to God? Ha! Funny.”

I blinked back tears, and my clothes were gone. Cool air hit my skin, shocking me to my senses.

I was in pain. And, from the way he was bleeding me from my wrists and (I just noticed) my ankles, in a lot of trouble.

“Not bleeding you. At least, not heavily. Just enough to slow you down while I claim my spoils. The more you struggle, the faster you'll bleed.”

He looked very much the demon. Red eyes, contorted features, sardonic smile as he worked.

And claws. Black, smooth claws. Tipped with my blood.

He crawled on top of me, a predator poised over his prey in victory. He breathed in deep, scenting me.

“Mmmm...fear and arousal really are my favorite combination. I think I'll enjoy this. All. Night.”

His teeth were unsheathed razor blades. And they sank right into my shoulder as his cock plunged into me.

I screamed and twitched against my bonds. There was no escape. No breaking free.

He was eating me alive.


	14. The Upper Room (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Of every way this could have ended, you weren't expecting this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >Warnings: language, brief mentions of non-con 
> 
> A/N: Hello hello! Well, this is it. I couldn’t be more pleased with my little experiment. mostly because of the amazing response it’s received. You all made this little writer feel amazing with your feedback, and I’m grateful to you all. Thank you for every like, reblog, and comment. And for joining me on this journey - it’s been a hell of a ride.  
> (There's also a surprise guest. No tags because...no spoilers. But you'll figure it out.)  
> Anywho, I hope you enjoy this one.

****

_Wake up, beautiful. Your life isn’t over yet._

_Time to wake up._

Darkness is all I see as I return to consciousness. There was a washcloth, warm and quickly cooling pressed over my eyes.

“There you are. It was touch and go for a moment there. Glad I got you when I did.”

I felt groggy and disconnected. My voice didn’t even sound right. “Wh-where… where am I?”

“You’re somewhere safer than your apartment.” A male voice. Smooth, calm, almost melodic.

“A hospital?” I asked.

“Luxor Las Vegas. Penthouse suite. Far, I know. But Bálor would have sent his cleanup crew to finish you off if I hadn’t taken you far away.”

 _Bálor_ … Is that… “Father Finn?”

“You knew him by that name, yes. But he’s the nastiest demon in existence and you, my unfortunate friend, were caught in his thrall.”

I tried to turn on my side. There was a twinge in my shoulder as I adjusted, eliciting a sharp gasp. The bite. I could still _feel_ him. Biting me. _Violating me._

“Easy, beautiful. You’re not done healing yet.”

“I need to go…”

“Where? You don’t have a home anymore. You shouldn’t even be _alive_.”

“Then you should have let them finish the fucking job.”

Begrudgingly, he replied, “I was told to. But Finn has gotten away with this for too long and he needs put back in his place.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” I didn’t have the energy to be pissed. I didn’t actually _feel_ anything.

A deep sigh. “Demons and angels operate on an hands-off basis. We’re not supposed to do anything to the soul until the point of death and commensurate with their deeds in life. But Finn...he’s been preying on lost souls, those who aren’t entirely bad but not totally good either, and haven’t chosen a side. This violates everything we’ve set out to do.”

I should be upset. I should be angry. Instead I’m just... _numb_.

“Oh right, you’re still hollow. Alright, sit tight. I’m going to give you something. It’s not much, just a small transfusion to get you through.”

He touched my chest, and I felt ice filling my chest. My breath came in heavy pants as I shook and shivered. It passed as quickly as it came.

“I’ve managed to patch a sliver of your soul. Not enough to restore, but enough to help you function if I’m going to help you get yours back.”

I removed the damp cloth from my eyes and adjusted to the light in the room as I looked at my rescuer. He looked...kind of like an anime character, if I’m honest. Curly hair in silver and black, eyes like a stormy ocean, a leather jacket - _what’s with powerful beings and leather jackets?_ \- and jeans.

“So which are you?”

“Angel,” he smirked. “Name’s Kenny. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

I nodded in acknowledgement. “Can you really get it back? My soul?”

His smile was huge. “Beautiful...we’ve got a _lot_ to talk about.”

* * *

**I know you’re out there, love. The demons told me so.**

**I _was_ true to my word, though. I didn’t kill you. And perhaps I failed to mention that I had a cadre of demons at the ready to do so.**

**That’s what happens when you deal with a demon.**

**But saved by an _angel_? Didn’t expect that. Fucking cowards, all of them, last I recall.**

**No matter. I’m sure I’ll see you again. It would give me such pleasure to have you once more before I finish you off for good.**

**You know where to find me. You know what to call me. You only have but to ask.**

**Until then, love...**


End file.
